Al has been going through some rough times after losing all his hens and an eye. I wanted to check in on him. As soon as he saw me, he scooted away, very wary of me. I followed, but he said, "Leave me alone." So I explained, "I'm just here to talk if you want. Your human mom thought maybe you would enjoy it, so she put your photo on a site for practicing animal communication. "I'm really not into that now," he replied. "I just need my life back." Before I could ask for clarification, he said, "I want it the way it used to be." It feels like he has a very heavy heart and is very confused about what is happening. "Al, I think you are experiencing one of the hardest parts of life — losing loved ones. It's very, very difficult for those who are missing them," I said. "Is that why you are so out-of-sorts?" He just looked around, thinking about this, wondering how I knew about this. He didn't reply. So I continued, "Usually it just takes time and some of that pain goes away." He was still looking around, a little confused, wondering what's going on. I could almost see his thoughts: "This is so bizarre. What's going on here?" He was mostly confounded by me and how I just appeared and was talking to him. "Al, I'm a person, just like the one who takes care of you. She was concerned about you because of all you have been going through. I'm just checking in to see if you want to talk about it or see if there's anything anyone can do to help." I added, "I'm not actually with you, but communicating telepathically from a distance, just as you would talk to other animals." "People don't talk like that," he stated. "Well, people can talk like that, though most have forgotten how. I'm relearning how — and so is the person who takes care of you. You can speak with her just like you're speaking with me. Just be patient with her, as she is just starting to learn." "Can you bring back my family?" he asked. "No, I'm so sorry. They have moved on from this life, but are not gone forever. Have you tried speaking with them?" I wondered to him. "I do feel them, but don't see them," he said. The disconnect is confusing for him. "That's how it works. You can speak with them whenever you wish, even though they are no longer here with you in this physical life," I explained. Many of the animals I've spoken with have a much greater familiarity and understanding of things like this than people do, so it was interesting that it seemed that Al didn't know about this stuff. I felt it was because of his confused state. It's like he is in a cloud and can't see or think clearly. "What do you think of the new hens in your yard?" I asked. "I don't know where they came from. They just appeared. Who's are they?" he asked. "I think your person adopted them so you could have some companionship," I replied. "Are they friendly?" "I don't know them," he answered. I didn't get a clear feeling whether he would eventually feel comfortable with them or that time would resolve things. For now, he just needed time to feel what he feels and adjust to life. But from his current point of view, it feels like his outlook is: what life? This isn't my life. Where is my life? — the one I had before. It didn't really feel like more talking or explaining would help at this point. So I thought I would just work with the Quantum Field Connection and send him some support. The intention on his page is one of healing and support for adjusting to his new life with new hens and improved physical and emotional health. I presented the idea that this is just one intention and that it's really up to him what he wants from his life. So I visualized one option for him: living his current life, but with a strong spiritual connection to the hens he lost. I see them gathering around him, comforting him, supporting him. He is happy. There is a lot of light in this scene. This feels good to him. I then presented another option: to leave this physical life and join them. His hens were there, offering support for whichever way he chose. There was no pressure either way, just options. This scene didn't feel quite so cheerful to me. I felt hesitancy in Al and a little more confusion. I then presented a third option: to stay where he is, enjoy the support of his hens energetically and spiritually, but also kindle a friendship and relationship with the new hens. I saw his hens in spirit gathering to support him amidst a glowing light. And I saw the hens in physical gathering to support him as well. It felt like they really wanted the best for him, to fully support him in his decision, not to change his mind in any way or to urge him to do one thing or another. Just support. This seemed to feel good and hopeful to him. There was a lot of light in this scene. I didn't feel the confusion or gloom anymore. I watched as his eye healed — at least energetically. I felt in his previous state of mind, he couldn't "see" his life as it was and therefore partially lost his vision. But now he could "see" a life like this one, and so vision was restored (at least at a higher level). I didn't want to pull Al out of this scene just to continue the conversation, so I left him there, amidst the light and hens and newfound hope and positivity. I hope he now can find his way forward in a way that is fulfilling to him. At least he now knows he has many options for doing so. Feedback:WOW!!! I have almost been in tears hearing what he had to say and how low he is feeling. I could sense he has lost all joy for life and I could sense (as you picked up) that he wanted his old happy life back with all his other hens. When you mentioned you "saw him scoot away"....I can so see him doing that. Its as if he is so embarrassed about who he is now and what he looks like. And as you mentioned an as I thought "he just wants to be left alone". My heart breaks for him to know that he has reached such a low. Im sure he does "want his life the way it used to be". As you mentioned about him being confused. I also got that impression, this is all very new for him and its very difficult for him to adjust. Its been awhile since he lost the hens but he went through a stage where his front feathers fell out and he used to call all the time. he never gave up hope until now.... shame Im sure he must of been very confused having you talk to him out of the blue (on top of everything else) but thank you for explaining this whole procedure as well as the quantum field connection procedure so nicely to him. Its such a relief to know that he still "feels his family around". He is so new to this so I can imagine how mind boggling this is for him right now. Shame what he is dealing with right now, is beyond words. As you said it seems like "he is in a cloud". Absolutely he is floating along so confused right now, bumping into everything - really not with it in the physical body or the intellectual mind either. That picture you send him was such a lovely way to leave him in a state of positivity and hope surround by his old hens as well as the new ones. Thank you for that. I am going to carry on with that and hopefully elevate some of the confusion, sadness, overwhelming feeling he has right now and hopefully through time he will accept it and start to heal and enjoy his little life with his new family.
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As I tuned-in to Strudel, I wanted to see how she was feeling about where she lives. So I sent a general "How's it going?" message. She sent back a very buoyant, happy response — almost like, "It's awesome here!" That led me to wonder how it compared to other places or where she was before. But this line of thinking apparently is very human-centric, as Strudel seemed perplexed about comparing other places and times to this one. "I already said how much I like it here!" she said. "What does any other place have to do with that?" The message felt clearly like it was a matter of living in the now, as many (or all?) animals seem to do versus all of the living in the past and future that many humans tend to do. "Oh, okay, Strudel, I think I get it," I said. "Everything else is inconsequential. Your place, right here and now — the only thing that really matters — is great. You answered my question fully! I think it was just a difference in perspectives that humans and animals take." I half expected her to maintain her perplexed expression about my line of questioning. But instead, she gave a controlled, very knowing grin, as if she knew exactly what she was doing the whole time — leading me to this place of remembrance or awareness. With that air of knowingness, she went on, "Now, shall we continue our chat?" "You're quite a clever sheep," I remarked. "It reminds me of the animated Shaun the Sheep series. Are you familiar with it?" "Shaun is a folk hero among us," said Strudel. "Anything that raises awareness for sheepdom is something we support." Then she added, "It's just something we've heard of, not actually seen." "How would you have even heard of something that is so human and so removed from the type of life you have?" I wondered. "Those thought pictures are floating everywhere! When we 'hear' people talking about us, we listen. Shaun is very positive for sheep everywhere!" What a strange concept! As I pondered this, I thought I'd transition to Strudel's life on the farm and wondered how that compared to the one portrayed on Shaun the Sheep, where the animals are very sentient and always involved in some antics that clash with the human way of life. Again, Strudel gave me that knowing grin, as if she orchestrated the progression of this conversation to bring me now to this topic. "You're not saying there's any truth to real farm animals thinking and doing things like they portray on Shaun the Sheep, are you?" I asked. "Of course not," she answered. "But we have fun and have personalities and show camaraderie, and even do things together." I tried to imagine what kinds of things she was talking about, but she brought my attention back to her (this translated to me like a hand reaching out and physically guiding my jaw back to a position facing her), wanting me to focus on communication from her, not from my mind. "We each care deeply for each other, even if we don't know each other well. We are all aware of each other and can even feel what each of us is feeling. That's where the connection and camaraderie comes in — the empathy." She demonstrates by showing me that if a horse or a pig at the other end of the farm is jubilant about something, they all know about it and can share in that joy. They aren't detached from it. It's not something that is happening to someone else. It is happening to "us." "And painful situations, too?" I asked. "Yes, those too." "And what about when animals don't get along or there is meanness between them?" I wondered. "We live by instinct and animal rules. There is no room for meanness or cruelty. There is just 'what we do, what we think, how we feel.' What you call meanness is a human thing. We don't call it meanness. It's just what is. But it can hurt us all just the same as it hurts you. When any of us suffers, we all do. We know this. You do not." "I can see that," I told her. The conversation had taken a deeper turn, so I thought I'd go back to a lighter conversation. I wondered how it felt to her to be on this farm. I know she already told me, but I was curious about how it actually felt to her. So I tried to put myself in her place and feel how that felt. It felt very peaceful, calm, serene, and safe. It felt like a place where you could thrive without any concerning events to disrupt it all. It felt like a place I'd want to be in all day! "Strudel, do you have any special friends where you live?" I asked. I immediately got a visual of a horse, but wondered why a sheep would be friends with a horse. It felt like there were other sheep and she does feel closest to them. But personality-wise, she also enjoys companionship outside her species. I see a wild bird who comes visiting. I see a black cat who she enjoys. As I tried to visualize who she feels close to, she said, "They are all my family!" "What a great feeling, Strudel!" I responded. "Is there anything you would like to request that you don't have?" I wondered. "Oats are nice," she said. "As a treat," she added. I have no idea if sheep eat oats??? But other than that, all she said was, "All is good. Life is good." "So glad to hear that, Strudel," I told her. I was going to comment on the contrast between her peaceful, uncomplicated life versus the typical human existence, which often feels the opposite. But she sort of energetically reached out with the thought wave that it didn't need to be said. It's a given. Our species are different. Life is what it is for each of us. Let's not celebrate what we have in common or contrast what we don't. Let's just acknowledge our journeys together here on Earth and do what we can to make them as fulfilling as possible. Well-communicated, Strudel! Thank you for talking with me today. Feedback:I’m glad you spoke with Strudle. I think sheep often get overlooked and actually misjudged. It may seem they are just stood around, but they see and listen a lot..as Strudle told you. Strudle has a particulary amazing smile, which you clearly picked up on. I am interested that she doesn’t really get a previous life...she came here at 4 weeks with the other 2 sheep, they were orphaned and would be culled as they cost too much to feed and fatten without their mums milk , so her main life experience is here . There are a range of different animals who generally hang out together of much as possible. Strudle does love to mingle more than most, she loves being with one of our rescue dogs. He is a very large cross who was originally captured by the dog wardens running in a farmers field with his sheep as the farmer was threatening to shoot him. Of her friends, there is a black feral (ish) cat, 20 plus chucks, turkeys and guinea fowl and 3 rescue ponies. Strudle has a special friendship with our pony, they share haynets, groom each other and are pretty much together most of the time. As the pony is very young and trying to learn about his new herd, Strudle is being kind and friendly. I am wondering if the wild bird is the magpie. He was trapped in a fence and we cared for him till he could fly , now he lives here on the farm. I so love that she gets the “group” thing 😁, especially the mean thing. That made me smile, as one of our ponies struggles to share food sometimes and can chase the others off. When he does that, I say “we don’t do mean here, we are all here together “or similar. I am happy that all my animal friends can feel this 💗. I do find too, that if one animal is out of sorts, the others often are too..... I thank Strudle too for the reminder that we should just BE more, she is wise. Shaun the Sheep..who knew 😁😁. As soon as I tuned in to Buena, she feels happy, excitable, high-energy, and positive. She loves to play and run around and enjoys barking. I was going to stop there with this description, but Buena strongly added in "A lot" to the barking comment! I asked her about being described as a sausage dog and she replied, "I love it! I'm a sausage dog!" She feels this is a badge of honor. Buena doesn't let her body type prevent her from doing or at least attempting anything other dogs do. She runs, jumps, plays fetch just like a longer-legged dog. I asked if there's anything else she wants to show me. I see her eating kibble. She shows me lots of open space outside where she can roam and explore. Almost seems like a small farm with some enclosures. She showed me an intricate web-like pattern, kind of reddish brown. I had no idea what it was, but it kept shifting to a different perspective until I realized it was the top of a chicken's head and the pattern was the feather array. It does feel like there is a lot going on where she lives, meaning a lot of activity, animals, things to explore, watch, sniff. Buena loves being in the midst of it all. "It's a wonderful life," she says. So far, Buena has mostly just been showing me around. Sort of giving me a brief tour. I thought I would try a conversation… "Buena, it sounds like you really love where you live," I commented. "It's the best!" she replied. "Every day is fun." I see her again in the midst of it all, interacting here, checking out what's going on over there. "I can feel how confident you are in your surroundings," I said. "It feels like you own the place!" "No, I don't own it. I'm just a Very Important Person here. Everyone knows me — and likes me!" "What a great feeling that must be!" I responded. I get a visual flash of her digging in the dirt, so asked her about whether that's something she likes. "I like exploring; checking things out. Sometimes that's above ground and sometimes it's below. Digging is like treasure hunting. You never know what's going to be down there!" "And what kinds of things have you found?" I wondered. "Oh, sometimes it's a critter (I see some kind of rodent and a small snake) and other times it's just surprises (I see an old fork and some old animal poop!)." I also see her trying to catch a small flag that is flapping in the breeze. It seems to be shaped like a bird and it also casts a shadow that jumps around as the breeze moves the flag. Buena has a great time "trying to catch" both versions of this flag. "How are you enjoying being on the animal communication practice site?" I wondered. She cocks her head at this, as if she is connecting this name/title with the activity she's been experiencing — that no one really explained to her yet. "THAT'S why everyone's talking to me?" she says good-naturedly. "I like it! I get to tell them everything I like to do." "Do you ever ask them about their lives?" I queried. She passed briefly, then asked, "Am I supposed to?" as if she may have missed a step she was supposed to take. "No, don't worry. There's no obligation or requirement for any of it. You can talk about whatever you like, answer or ask any question, or even say you don't feel like talking now," I told her. Then I added, "These are all people who are trying to learn how to talk the way animals talk, so they can communicate with you." "I also bark," she said, with a wondering about whether people are learning to bark. I laughed. "No, just talking using pictures in your mind. We call it telepathy." She thinks a moment, then says, "I like telepathy." Another pause, then: "Do I do telepathy?" Again I laughed. "Yes, the way you communicate by sending thoughts and pictures is telepathy. It's how we're talking now!" "Is this how you communicate with the other animals where you live?" I wondered. "I don't know. We just talk," she said. "Well, it's probably so natural to you, that you don't really need to think about what you are doing," I hypothesized. She seemed to be satisfied with this answer, but it was all a little too deep for her liking. She prefers to enjoy life as it is, in all its simplicity. As I wrote that part about simplicity, I see a very fluffy gray cat sitting on the back support of a sofa. She seems to hiss at Buena. To Buena, this is an example of the opposite of simplicity, as she doesn't understand this cat or her motivations. She is COMPLICATED. I asked, "Anything else you want to tell me, Buena?" "Tell mom she's doing great!" she said. I didn't ask for clarification because it felt like she would know what that means. "Thank you for the great conversation, Buena!" I told her. "Have a fun day!" "YES!" she affirmed, simply. Feedback:Wow you can see you have had lots of practice and know just the right questions to ask and conversations to have. So you were right on the mark....she is starting to age recently but she is still very happy, excitable and as you mentioned loves to share around with loads of energy and bark at passing people or dogs. Haha yes her and our other dog love to bark at the outside world and it's like a race to see who can get out the door the fastest so they can do their "barking".... I am glad she doesn't mind being called "a sausage dog" I recently starting wondering if that would be offensive as she is quite a little "porky" too. we have recently tried to take her for some walks to help her bit but she doesn't seem worried and struts around very proud. Runs, jumps over things at high speed, she battles at times to jump onto the couch but she does get it right most of the time. Although she prefers her soft bed on the floor at times as its quite a lot of effort for her. Her favourite fun thing to do is chase after the pigeons for me when they come to eat our bantam's food. She loves that job and feels very important running around after them. Most of the time we give her kibble, so yes that would be correct what she showed you. At times she will get some meat but we try not give too much with her teeth. As far as the "small farm"... yes I would definitely call what we have at home a small farm with our 2 dogs, 2 cats, a bunny, 3 quails and 3 bantams. We have enclosures but only for night time. The quails stay in their enclosures though the rest roam freely during the day. The intricate "web design" I think would be our sebrite bantams feathers. They are so beautiful in their markings. I loved the way she showed that to you, Im surprised to managed to understand what it was. It is a very busy and active life in our back garden, lots to keep our companions busy with. I'm so glad to know that she thinks of it as "wonderful" and that she thinks of herself as "important". I've always wondered how she feels about it and if she feels like she doesn't get enough attention with all the other animals around. We have a dog walker that walks past our house most days and calls out to her when they pass - so yes "she is known"...so thanks for that Josh. She does at times manage to find old buried "poop" which she digs up...yuk!!! she seems very interested in it. Some treasure😂. I get the digging is like treasure to her though. How fascinating that that's how she looks at it. She has found some little insects. Not sure about the fork 🤔. As far as the animal communication...we are both still new to it all. I have tried practising with her but I find myself bit blocked so I haven't explained too much about it. She definitely does seem to know when I'm trying I would look with her big eyes at me so now she understands what I've been doing as well as your conversation with her. I loved the part about her telling you "I also bark". That is too adorable, so down to earth and plain. Nothing fancy. Just like she is. I also found her comment about "just talk" with the other animals. I found this very amusing. Not sure what its called but just knows she's talking. Too sweet. Im not sure about the big grey cat. We did have a few cats from our neighbours that came into our garden at times so it could have been that. We have a pale ginger cat who sits on the sofa but I have never seen her hiss unless she gets a fright. She often does have that puzzled look on her face as she watches. I always wondered what she was thinking now I know its a puzzled look about how "complicated" cats are. Very funny.... Aaaw her message to me was so special and its reassuring to know that Im doing the best I can with my children, my companions and my family. I often second guess myself so thank you for that. I thoroughly enjoyed that Josh. You were on the mark. Thank you. I tried not to read too much of Leah's background before connecting. Though I did see she has an issue with men, so immediately wondered how she would react to me. When I sat down with her, she bared her teeth and growled. I wasn't sure if my mind was making this up or if she really felt that way. "Leah, I thought since you could read my energy, you would know that I'm not a threat, just someone who cares about you," I explained to her. "I don't always go by energy. Sometimes I just react instinctively," she answered. "So your instinct is that I'm a threat?" I asked. "No, my instinct is just to react without thinking," she replied. "Okay, so this time, why not take a moment to read the energy before reacting and see how you feel," I suggested. "I'm just part of a group of learning animal communicators who are interested in your wellbeing and want to help and make sure your needs and wants are heard," I added. Leah was still standing, very tensely, teeth bared, and not looking directly at me. I could feel this is not who she really is. There's a sweet, tender dog underneath that hurt, protective exterior. She just doesn't know how to get past the instinctive reactions she is having. I gave her a few moments and watched as the view of her kept switching back and forth from the tense, protective Leah to one who was gentle and submissive with her ears down and licking her lips. "What do you need to feel safe, Leah?" I asked. "I want my mom," she answered. "Your human guardian or your dog mom?" I felt it was her dog mom, but wanted to confirm. "My MOM." She said this like there was only one answer. Of course, it was her dog mom. "I'm so sorry, Leah. It must be so hard to be without her and to have to be in such scary situations without her help and comfort. Do you know where she is?" "She's gone. I don't know," she replied. She seemed confused and hazy about the details, as if one day her mom was there with the family, and the next moment, she wasn't. Leah is unsure about the progression. It feels like this gentleness, the motherly sensitivity and nurturing is what Leah has been missing and looking for. She wants to be nurtured, taken care of. The male energies she has encountered have been harsh and unkind and overpowering and scary — the opposite of what she is missing in her mom. As I sat there looking at Leah, I wondered to her, "What next?" referring to how she would like to proceed with this interaction. She now realized I wasn't the person she feared I was. Her body softened and she came over to me and lay down on her back, exposing her belly. But she didn't do this because she wanted a belly rub out of enjoyment. It felt like she was "submitting" because "that's what you do to get by." "Leah, you don't have to do that with me. We can talk and interact as equals," I told her. She immediately rolled back over onto her stomach, ears perked up, perfectly at ease, and curious. She instantly felt like a "normal" dog without any baggage. This was the dog who was underneath all the other stuff. It just all feels like a role she was playing to get through the difficult parts and when she is ready, she can simply shed it like a coat and get on with the next phase of her life. She wagged her tail happily at this observation. "What do you think it will take to get you to that place more permanently?" I asked her. I first heard, "Mom," with a hopeful "Is she coming back?" It was more of a thought than a question to me, so I didn't answer. When I focused on the question I asked her, I saw and felt that she has been living from this external persona, like a shell. It's a very ungrounded state and doesn't allow the outside to touch who she really is deep down. With time in a calm, settled environment, she will release that outer shell and be able to settle into her true self — who she is deep down at her core. At that point, I don't see her retaining any of the negative behaviors she has had to take on up until now. She will be able to embrace her life and be the loving, gentle dog she knows she is inside. It doesn't feel like a foster home, with lots of other dogs/animals, is her destiny or where she will be able to blossom. I see her in a regular home in a quieter, more normalized environment, either as the only dog in the house or maybe with another. It really does all feel like it's about getting to the right place. I see this vision of a seed. It has a protective exterior because it knows it needs to withstand lots of harsh environments, such as weather, lack of water and nutrients, animals that may eat it, etc. So it lays dormant and protected indefinitely. However, when the right elements all line up — the right weather, the right amount of water, the perfect soil – the protective layer falls away and the seed is able to safely sprout and grow and thrive. This feels like Leah. She is not damaged. It is just a protective exterior that will fall away when she finally reaches her perfect environment. Leah barks at this. She is happy. She turns around in happy circles a couple of times. I just know things will work out for her. Her current foster home is a jumping-off point for Leah — a place where she has come to begin learning to trust, but mostly to be able to make it to her next stop. I checked in with Leah to see how she felt about this plan. Deep down, she knows about it. For now, she reverts back to her "shelter" persona, which is generally happy (trying to please everyone), with lots of nervous energy, seeking attention through submissive belly rubs (she describes it as "Giving people what they want"), and wearing this protective shell until she doesn't need it anymore. Good luck, Leah. I know you will get there and you will shine when you arrive! Snooky feels like a very gentle, good-natured soul. He is sweet, loving, and has a sense of humor, enjoys playful interaction, and has a "bad breath" problem (sorry!). He had some trouble breathing, as well. When I asked what else he wanted me to know, he said, "I am much more than my photo." He wanted to make sure that I knew a photo is just one-dimensional. But he embodies all dimensions! "In my current state, I am multi-faceted, able to go and travel where I wish," he said. "In my body as Snooky, I was more limited, but able to express myself in many wonderful ways." He described some of them: "I loved the smell of grass, listening to the birds, being the front-door sentry, chewing rawhide sticks, expressing my love through companionship and emotional support." "It wasn't always an easy life due to physical constraints," he said. He shows me his short legs that would only let him go so fast and so far even when his mind raced ahead. But he enjoyed being carried when no one was looking. "No one," meaning other dogs mostly. If they met up with another dog while he was being carried, he felt embarrassed and preferred to be on the ground, despite any size differences, just to show that he was as big a dog as any, at least in mind. His weight gain later in life seems to have come from a slowed metabolism and emotional eating. It was compulsive and not something he necessarily enjoyed. He just couldn't help himself and ate to quell his worries, which he was taking on for people in the house. He felt his job was as a beacon of positivity in the house and to support the family in ways only he could. "I'm very good at cheering people up," he says. "I know when they feel sad and that's when I spring into action!" He would jump onto laps, distract you from troubles, show his lighthearted side. In essence, he was "absorbing" the negatives, which showed up in weight gain. But he's quick to jump in and say, "It was my choice! No one should feel bad about this. I would do it again and again if I could to improve your lives. It's what love does! It's what families do — and you did do the same for me." I typically get a more conversation-based connection with animals. With Snooky, he mostly wanted me to understand who he was and what he was all about by showing me these different scenes. He wanted his people to step back and look at his life with them from a more expansive viewpoint and to see "What really went on. Why it went the way it did," he began explaining. "There are always many reasons for things. Blaming yourself, harboring regrets, holding on to sadness over some perceived transgression isn't a healthy part of that. We lived a full, beautiful life together. It was magnificent! There were no missteps. There were only things we did together, dances we danced, plans we enacted. It was our expression together. Please know this! Please internalize it! All went spectacularly well, just as it will again in another time and place. Capiche?" I then checked Snooky's page to see if there were any questions and saw one about whether he is angry for being without his people when he passed away. He replies in a very gentle, loving way, "Anger? I don't harbor a drop. It is not part of my being, just as regret shouldn't be part of yours. And how would things have improved if you had been here with me at the end? A final goodbye? There are none of those. We have only parted physical ways for a short while. A show of support? You always did — one more moment of it wouldn't have driven that knowing home any stronger. A bit of comfort? I had that in spades — a long life full of it! So you see, it's time to let go of the should-haves and would-haves and embrace what we do have — a lifetime of beautiful experiences together and many more on the way." It sounds like Snooky was a dear part of your life and still is! Thank you for giving him a space to talk about it. Feedback:The conversation you had with him told me so much. I had no idea that he was carrying such a burden for us. I'm so happy to know that he wasn't upset with me for not being with him when he passed, at least his daddy was with him. If I could do anything to bring him back, I would but not the with the health he had. I had to laugh when you mentioned bad breath, lol no matter how much I brushed his teeth or the dental chews he had, nothing helped. Yes, he had breathing problems at times. I would hold him in front of the fan and talk quietly to him to calm him down. It's been five years since I became aware of animal communication and almost as long since I took my first workshop. In that time, I've participated in seven Animal Communication Practice Challenges and had more than 200 conversations or connections with animals, plants, spirits, nature elements, and even an extraterrestrial or two. I've had periods when I've pushed hard to grasp this skill and other, much longer periods, when energetic, physical, and emotional challenges forced me to put it all aside. Instead of a steady and easy progression to where I am today, I would describe my journey more as "clawing" my way to this point — each milestone hard-won. However, I have progressed! I have had multiple breakthroughs along the way. I have added skills, built confidence, released anxieties, and become more accurate. My first breakthrough was at the start of my first Challenge, when I decided to let go of everything I had been learning and embrace my own straight-forward, simple approach. Suddenly, I could finally perceive what animals were telling me. Confidence and anxieties still hampered me for years to come, but it was a major breakthrough, nonetheless. My second breakthrough was when I started submitting my conversations to teachers as part of their practice programs. When I got feedback about my accuracies from "the pros," this boosted my confidence and made a huge difference in anxiety levels before and after having and submitting conversations. Along with this, one teacher would demonstrate how much learners were getting right by highlighting similarities in conversations multiple students had with the same animal. This further boosted my confidence and released my anxieties so that I was able to confidently press "send" on those conversations without hesitating or worrying about the results. My third breakthrough was only recently and was probably more like a milestone. I had my first live video call with an animal's person offering feedback on my conversation. Interacting with the person in this way really opens up the lines of communication and understanding. Though stressful at first, this important step no longer is! And my most recent breakthrough was also on a video call with an animal's person offering feedback on my conversation. This time, however, I was encouraged to see if I could pick up anything from the animal "live" on the call — something I had always wished I could do, but never came close to doing. When I let myself realize that though I may not hear the animal speak to me as I thought I should, I am still able to "know" certain things by tuning in, this cracked the dam. It made me aware that it's actually been one of my intuitive superpowers all along (something that I use on a daily basis throughout the rest of my life), but only in acknowledging it did that finally help me break through. More on that as it progresses! So here I am, five years in. Seems like a long time to work at something and still not be all the way there. Seems like I should be a pro, since others get this far in much less time. But others are not me. And my special brand of animal communication is unlike any other. Yours is unlike any other as well! We all progress at our own paces, surmount our own challenges, and arrive at different places. None of us is comparable. Our paths start and end differently — and certainly don't take the same routes. But most of us still have one thing in common: we take one step at a time to get there. I'm proud of myself for sticking with this; for forging my own way; and for finally feeling really good about where I am with this skill. Whether you are just beginning or have been at it a while, I hope you can see past some of that frustration and hopelessness you may be feeling and instead internalize a little of that eventual end-zone pride in this present moment. Because if you stick with this, let go of the expectations, find your own path, and take those one-at-a-time steps toward your next breakthrough, it will get easier, it will get more fluid and fun, and you will reach your goal. And that goal, whatever it is for you, is worthy of feeling pride for right now. I thought maybe I'd talk with my dog today, but when I tuned-in, she turned her head away. "You don't want to talk today?" I asked. "No, not today," she answered. "I'm just trying to better understand what you need," I explained. "I'm good," she said simply and almost neutrally. Almost, because it felt like there was a tinge of defiance in her voice. It also felt like there may have been things that would help her if she talked with me, but she was more interested in pushing those things away, sweeping them under the rug, and acting like everything was fine. But I didn't want to push her into doing something she didn't want. So I accepted this preference today and instead, decided to reflect on this month's practice challenge. Reflecting on the Last 31 DaysI've run seven practice challenges so far. I've participated in six of them. And by "participated," I mean spent time each day on something related to animal communication (mostly, talking with animals and nature). And I'm happy to say that after three years and nearly 200 conversations, I've finally been able to let go of much of my doubt about whether I'm actually connecting; my fear about getting it wrong; and my stress and anxiety over whether I'll actually be able to have a conversation with a particular animal. Sounds crazy, huh? That after so much success at this, those fears and doubts and anxieties should still persist? I agree. But I just couldn't shake them. No matter how much positive feedback I got, how much verification and confirmation, how much coaching and encouragement from family and animals, how much cheerleading and support I was able to give others in my situation, I still kept thinking, "What if I got it wrong? What if my mind is just making it all up? What if it was just coincidence that I got things right? What if I can't connect or have a conversation? What if I need to find out certain details and can't get them? It was crazy-making and definitely detracted from my experience and enjoyment of simply having a meaningful connection with an animal. So, what changed this time around? 1) Getting professional feedback. In the last couple of months, I've practiced with animals who are connected to professional animal communicators. So I was able to benefit from positive feedback and reinforcement that I was getting things right. Yes, I've gotten great feedback over the years from "pet parents" and even my psychic wife who has confirmed over and over that I'm on track. And even though I am very independent and do better learning on my own, perhaps it was just the right time to get professional opinions. My first learning experience with an animal communication professional was in 2015. And not only wasn't I getting many results back then when just starting out, but I wasn't getting the professional support I may have needed, either. 2) Not caring. Okay, that sounds bad. I do care — and often too much — about what I do, and how I do it. So in the interest of integrity and the drive to do the best I can do, I tend to doubt my conversations, thinking that maybe I didn't do enough; maybe I could have done more, been more accurate, tried a different technique, double-checked this or that. So, building on my higher confidence, possibly stemming from reason No. 1 above, I just simply had my conversations, knowing I did my best, assuming they were correct, and that what was meant to come through for me in that moment was right — and I let the rest go. Really, I didn't give it another thought. After having the conversation and recording it in my journal, I submitted it for feedback without hesitation. Whether or not the feedback would turn out to be good or bad, accurate in someone else's opinion or not, that was the conversation I had and I was sticking to it. Those were the words I heard and the feelings I felt and the impressions I got. No one can change that! My experience was mine alone and when looking at it that way, 100% accurate! 3) This journal. How many conversations does it take to make a light bulb go on? Apparently, for me, nearly 200. Keeping a journal of all my experiences — and publishing that journal for all to see and read — takes courage. It turns what could have been private experiences (and very easily and quickly disbelieved or forgotten) into public, indelible experiences, proclaiming "I did this," and there's no taking it back or doubting whether it happened. It's not like I didn't feel successful after publishing my first Challenge-full of conversations — and many other conversations thereafter. But something happened in my mind each time to make that success fade into doubt. Likely, it had to do with the fact that over the years since my first challenge, I was dealing with increasingly more intense energetic turmoil, preventing me from continuing my practicing throughout the year. So between Challenges, all my momentum stopped. And without steadily continuing to build an airtight foundation, my confidence simply leaked away. There may be other reasons. Maybe relating to my soul's plan or to lining up the right events or circumstances. Or it may have simply been time. I may never know for sure. But what I do know, is it feels good. To just sit down and have a conversation not accompanied by all the worry and doubts and concerns. To enjoy the nuances and personalities that come through just for me. To just record it all and send it for feedback, not thinking about whether someone else thinks it's correct or accurate or on-point. To just know that my experience was my own. It happened, no matter what else does. It was a personal interaction between me and another being. No one and no thing can change that. I'm not saying all doubt is gone, but much of it. Enough to let me finally enjoy this experience. Whew. A nice place to be. Glad I finally made it! I again asked if anyone out there wanted to have a conversation and heard nothing back. So I refined the question and asked, "Is there anyone from outside our planet who would like to talk?" I heard a great many voices murmuring and talking this over, all in strange dialects and languages — none of them English. Then one voice became clearer and more prominent and said in a stereotypical alien/English-speaking voice, "We will talk for you." "You mean talk with me?" I asked. "You wanted someone to talk, so we are offering," the voice clarified. "Thank you. I meant have a conversation, not just talk or say something so I can hear it," I said. "We are here." The voice was monotone, tinny, and sounded like sci-fi aliens from a B movie in the 60s or 70s. "Why are you using that voice?" I wondered, knowing it couldn't be their real voice and also knowing they probably chose this one to use for a reason. "It is something you expect. It tells you you are speaking with an outerplanetary being so you don't think you are making it all up," the voice said. So far it made sense. "Where are you from?" I asked. And the answer I heard was kind of like Xartan if written, but it didn't sound like that word if a person tried to speak it. There were others sounds, like "th" in there that made it kind of unpronounceable. "And how did you happen to be on Earth to be able to respond to me?" I asked. "We are not on Earth. Our consciousness is. We can send it anywhere we want. We heard your call and answered." "Why did you choose Earth to send your consciousness to?" I wondered. "Is it an important place in the universe?" "It is no more important than any other place. It is very physical. And young. And you are still focused on yourselves being the center of the universe. And you are, in a way. We all are. Every planet, every species, every lifeform must consider itself its center. And then they expand outward. Others are very focused on the outward. Earth is still focused on the inward." The voice had toned down the stereotypical alien English. "Are we able to do what you do — send our consciousness out to other parts of the universe?" I asked. "Yes. To an extent. And that extent is your imagination. Your conceptual realm of possibility. Most of you have not yet discovered the limits — or un-limits — of your thinking. You have simply reached those limits. But there is much more." The voice said all of this in a non-judgmental way. Very patient, like, "This is currently how it is, but don't worry, there is time. Your planet is young. This is all normal." I kept referring to him/them as a voice, so I thought I'd ask, "Is there a name I can call you?" "We do not go by names. We are known by what you might call personas. Everything we are creates a unique mark or footprint that makes us each recognizable. That is how we are referenced." "And what about the 'we' you refer to? Are you speaking on behalf of more than one being?" I explored. "No. Again, it is something undefined on your planet. We, us, I, me — those are not terms or concepts we use. We each are multidimensional, multilayered, multi-anything-we-want. We are many things in one. So calling us 'they' makes more sense than 'him.' " I suddenly got an image of a being with an oblong head area that looked crystalline. It was shimmering and had energy sparkles moving around it like it was not really a physical form, but fluid and energetic. I also was reflecting back on their comment about how other beings are focused on the "outward," and was wondering what that meant. I immediately got an understanding that they were immersed in expanding the universe. Designing, building, extending, exploring new ways to live and be and exist. It didn't feel "god-like," just very, very advanced. Way beyond the trivial and petty things humans are immersed in. We are on the playground. They are in the teacher's lounge, strategizing on a much different, much higher level. "So why bother with Earth at all?" I asked, thinking about how insignificant we probably are. "Everything is important," they said. "It's not about what you do or what you accomplish. It is that you are. You are important because you are. You are equal because you are. You matter because everyone does." "Do you get involved in helping us on Earth?" I wondered. "There are those who do. We do not. We trust in the process of creation and re-creation," they replied. "As you say, 'nature takes its course.' " "Thank you for your insight today and for talking to me," I said. The feeling I got in return was that it was no effort whatsoever. It was all as easy and natural as thinking a thought. The distance was inconsequential. The species/race difference had no bearing on it. There was a much bigger structure in place that made it feel like the massive universe or multiverse or as expansive as life goes is also as accessible and close-to-home as a world that would fit in your hand. Our perceptions are way off on what is and what is possible and how things work and how close-to-home it all is in reality. And that was my interspecies communication for today. I wasn't feeling up to having a deep conversation with anyone and no one really came to mind anyway. I asked if anyone just wanted to have a light conversation and I kept coming back to Chappy, even though he can be a lot to take in sometimes (read my first conversation with him here). As soon as I tuned-in, I already heard a stream of talking, like walking into a room with the radio already on. "Yes, I'm still going," said Chappy. "What did you expect?" "I think that is what I expected, but I can't believe you don't have an 'off' button," I said. "Or any downtime," I added. "You can't press your own off button and expect to turn yourself on again," he said. "And no one else gets to control me like that. And anyway, who says I need an off button or down time? I'm not tired of it all. I love being 'on.' I'm having a grand time. Shenanigans forever! It's why I came here. I'm taking full advantage of this life. Why shouldn't I?" "So none of this over-the-top personality is an act?" I wondered. "It's not deflecting or masking some deeper issues that you need to work on? I ask because often when humans have such a large personality, it is to compensate for or mask something else that they aren't ready to work on." "That's not me. I came here to live life fully. Maximum, wall-to-wall, full-throttle, uninhibited. I paid for the deluxe package and I'm going to get my money's worth," he said. "And why did you need such high intelligence to live such a life?" I wondered. "When you create a character, you get to choose the characteristics. I maxed almost everything out. I just wanted to see how that would work. How could being too smart be a bad thing? Being two steps ahead of everyone means I am always in control of the situation — even when the others in the room don't know it." "So none of this is an act?" I asked. "It's all an act. But it's an act based on what I requested. I'm simply putting it all to use. If you buy a costume, aren't you supposed to try it on and wear it?" "It all makes sense," I conceded. "How did you decide on this persona in this life? What were some of your other lives?" "I'm trying them all — a world tour!" he replied. I see a peasant with a donkey and cart in what looked like a difficult life ("it was" he came in to say), an eagle, a bear, a dog in a royal family, an emperor in Asia, a samurai, a rodeo cowboy… it felt like the list would just go on and on and be very diverse. "Did you really live all those lives? " I asked. "Of course! I told you, I'm on the world tour. I want to experience — and being on Earth is one of the best ways. Not the only way, but its pretty full-featured." "What do you think of some of your more difficult lives?" I wondered. "I think I'm glad I tried them. I still learned from them, experienced a different side of things, made new friends, and I will never repeat them again!" Then he added, "Nope. Never going back to those hell-holes!" As I thought for a moment about all of this, wondering what to think, Chappy came in with a little softer tone, something I had never heard from him before. "You know what I'm talking about, right?" he said more gently than I expected. "Yes, life is meant to be serious. Seriously intense! Because it's built that way, to immerse you in an experience and compel you to explore specific aspects. But if you can see beyond that, realize it for what it is — just a game — then you can shift your approach from too serious to seriously fun." "Easier said than done," I replied. "That's why I'm erring on the side of extreme. I'm going all the way to the edge to make sure I'm squeezing every last drop out of life. All the fun that can be had. I'm not taking chances with all that seriousness." he said. "It probably helps that you began this life with a personality that wasn't so serious," I commented. "You didn't have to make drastic changes to get where you are." "True," he agreed. "But everyone has choices. They all have some leeway to shift life away from where they began and more toward where they want to go." ""Are you now at a more extreme place than where you began?" I asked. "You betcha! As soon as I got the hang of things, I just went for it and never looked back. There was a short period of slow-build when I was getting my feet wet. But that didn't last long." "Thank you for this conversation, Chappy. I like this softer side of you," I told him. "Easier on the eyes?" he said lightly. "And ears," I admitted. "Although I do appreciate who you are, I'm glad I don't live with you." I felt I could say such things without hurting his feelings. "Oh come on… we'd have a blast!" he chided, not for a moment taking what I said as an insult. "Hey, next time you're in town, we'll have to go to that club…" and he trailed off, making his point. "Yeah, we'll see," I replied with a smile. "I'll talk to you later, Chappy!" "Cheers, my man. Keep it chill," he signed off. This morning I was wondering which animal I should talk with. There is a band of wild turkeys who roam our neighborhood and they are always digging up our front landscaping in search of food. They dig out the topsoil and leave it strewn all over the sidewalk. Sometimes this happens daily. And there are different groups of these turkeys, so it's not always the same "family." I was thinking of talking with them, but wasn't sure how that would work. How would I know I am speaking with the right group? Would I just address "turkey" in general? I pictured in my mind a band of turkeys in front of our house. One in particular stood out. He immediately avoided eye contact with me, as did the others. The more I tried to make a connection with them, the more they tried to avoid one. And I heard, "No, I'm not listening. Not listening." When I sent a questioning query about this to the turkey, he answered not quite in words like in a conversation, but in thoughts. "Everyone shoos us away. They don't want us here. We need to eat. So we forage. We forage for things you're not eating! What else can we do? That's why I don't want to listen to any more… people telling us where to go. They don't know where we need to go in order to survive. They just are focused on what they need." "I understand that," I replied. "And I'm sorry you feel like you are outcasts and unwanted. It's one reason I was hesitant to contact you, because I didn't want you to feel like you couldn't do what comes naturally to you. I think people would be okay with having you here and visiting, but sometimes the issue is the mess you leave and the damage you do to their yards." The lead turkey was now paying full attention to me rather than avoiding eye contact as before. "But we're helping! I thought people don't like insects and things like that in the garden." "I know you are doing what is natural for you. And it's true, many people are fine with what you are eating. But, for example, in our yard, you come by almost every day and dig out the leaves and soil so that the entire walkway is covered with things that were once among the plants. It requires me to clean up daily. Is there any way you can either be more careful or to try your best to push those things back into the planter areas as much as possible?" "We have to do housekeeping? We've never had to do that before. Why would a wild creature need to do such a thing?" wondered the turkey to me. "Because you are living among people," I explained. "We're trying to co-exist and this would be an adaptation on your part. It doesn't seem that far-fetched to me. If you made some concessions, people might also make some concessions and it will work out well for everyone." "This is not what I was expecting," said the turkey in a bewildered way. "It goes against our nature." "Nature is masterful at adapting and evolving," I reminded him. "You have likely already adapted to much more over the years and over the history of turkeys. Those times may have felt more natural because you decided on your own to make the changes in order to get what you wanted. This time, you are being asked to change — but in the end, it is still going to get you what you want. People will be more open to having you visit and you will have a freer time foraging." The turkey was quiet for a few moments as he thought of this, not sure exactly how to respond. As I tried to gauge his outlook, it didn't feel happy. It felt irritated, scorned, and not sure what to do next. In the end, he gathered his flock and began leaving. He muttered, "We'll think about it." And then they were gone. This didn't really go as I had wanted. And I wondered if I had gotten things right. Would they really have been so frustrated by this conversation? I would have hoped they would have been friendlier and even happy to try and work something out. Maybe I read the whole situation incorrectly? I decided to let it go for today and just see how they treat our front yard in the future. If there's a change, then perhaps my conversation was on track. Even if there were no change, it could still have been on track and the turkeys simply decided to ignore the request. Time will tell! Prologue:The very next day, the turkeys were back and made the biggest mess of our yard that they ever had! It really felt like it was an "In your face" message, like "We're not listening to you and here's what we have to say about that!" My wife got the message from them that they "Will not be controlled or told what to do." I'm still going to try and reason with them through AC, as we are still neighbors and need to find a way to get along. But this is not a good start! Fiona is the name of an apple tree down the street from my house. She was one of the first conversations I had during my first Challenge in 2016. I think about her often, as I see her all the time while walking the neighborhood or driving home. Since I posted today about talking with nature, I thought I would revisit Fiona and see how she is doing. Last time we connected, I distinctly remember feeling a different vibration. This time, I didn't feel that. I walked up to her in my mind and she gave me a very warm, grounded, welcoming smile. It's not the kind that you get after not seeing someone for a long time — exuberant or extra excited. It was simply a genuine "So nice to see you" smile. No expectations or falseness. Her voice was distinctly female. "Hi Fiona," I greeted her. "I'm so glad to see you are healthy and thriving." I said this because a couple of years ago, someone "pruned" her very aggressively — even as she still had a tree-full of unripe apples. I was worried she wouldn't recover. "Yes, I'm still here," she answered. "Now, that was an experience, huh?" she said of the pruning. "Did it hurt?" I wondered. "Well, no, not in the human sense," she said. "But it was a shock to the system. Everything we are made of is part of our sensory system. Feeling the air, the sun, the rain, the seasons. It's a dramatic change when all of that is cut off. You feel bare and nude and empty, like you lost your world." "I'm so sorry. I was angry and sad when I saw what they had done. How did you recover?" I asked. "We have a secret power beneath us: the earth. Mama. She feeds and nurtures us. She nurses our wounds and strengthens our fortitude. Despite the trauma, I knew all would be well in the end — no matter what the outcome." I wondered what she meant when she talked about mother earth. What was her conception of it? The soil? The layers of nutrients? The water? When I tried to tap into her perception of earth, I simply got something that transcends the physical. It was more energetic and spiritual. Mother earth was more of a life force that binds it all together. A living vibrancy that breathes life into it all. Fiona waited as my mind went through all of these realizations and discoveries. And when I returned to her, she said, "You have it, too." Meaning, the connection to this life-force and this ability to tap into the vibrancy and well-being. "I don't think most people are that 'still' to notice this connection," I commented. "It's true," added Fiona. "You're a busy race. Busy, busy." "There's a new family who has moved into the house on the land where you live. Have you noticed any changes?" I asked. "I keep to myself," she said with a touch of humor. "But seriously, I keep to myself. The comings and goings of others are just events in the vicinity. I can choose to focus on the movements and energies or I can leave them in the background. My world is on a different level. It is my connection to the earth below, the air above, the occasional connection with others growing at my 'feet' or passing by. The birds, the bees. They all know their place in the world and I know mine. Mine is where I am focused." "What about tree consciousness?" I wondered. I knew it was possible to tap into "trees" in general, sort of like the world tree energy. It seemed that would be much more than an individual focus. "This is a truth as well," she said. "We are all tapped into The Great…" I was waiting for the last word in that title, feeing like there should be one. But it never came and I think that may be what she meant, to simply call the consciousness of everything The Great. "Physical expression is individual. Spiritual expression is unified, synchronized in its desire to serve what's best for all. So when we tap into that, we can speak and do as one. In physical, we aren't quite as focused on that," she said. I was about to ask about tree groupings that actually take care of each other, as I had once read. She jumped right in to answer me first. "That's not to say this concert doesn't happen. It most certainly does. We help, interact, intermingle, even celebrate those other beings around us. But we don't live for others. We live for our own experience first. It's part of self-preservation. A strong second is our desire for well-being for all." "So if someone walks by you and you sense he needs help, you will help?" I asked. "If someone walks by and we are focused on him and he needs help, we will send help. But we are not simply 'open' to all experiences around us all the time. We are more focused on our own processes; the many workings of our systems and those who are connected to us and our livelihood." I got a picture of the nutrients and life-force coursing through her roots and branches and trunk and leaves. Her system was alive with activities. I understand what she was saying, but couldn't quite picture how it all felt to her. To which she commented, "You'll have to live as a tree some day." Meaning, choose that as one of my lives. "It sounds strange to choose a life as a tree when I am living as a human — something so different. But I'm sure it's a fine possibility when looking at it in spirit form," I answered. "Fiona, it was great to catch up with you. I'm so glad you are thriving." Instead of answering with words, she again flashed me her warm, genuine smile, as she had done at the beginning. It was an expression that said so much in just a moment. And it was all that was needed to be said. After I finished this conversation, I got an email from Abraham, the non-physical energy group that channels wisdom through Esther Hicks, that seemed to sum up Fiona's description of being connected, but still focused on her own world. Diversity is the name of the game: Abraham said, "It is very difficult to understand what anybody else’s experience is. There aren’t enough words to really understand what anybody else is living. Physical beings want things to be the same. They want people to think the same. You work rather hard at sameness, but you will never win that battle because, from Nonphysical, diversity is known to be the most beneficial part of the game." When I tapped into Royce to do some Quantum Field Connection work, I felt he was a bit jumpy and stressed. It seems like there is a lot going on around him and it doesn't give him time to chill out, decompress, and get grounded. All the more reason he needs to find a permanent home! I sat with Royce and explained why he is where he is and that soon he will find a permanent home where he can thrive, feel safe, where people and maybe other animals will love and adore him. After I briefly described what it will be like, he asked, "Will there be treats?" It felt like he gets them where he is now and it's a highlight. He wants to make sure that tradition will continue. "Yes, I'm sure there will be treats!" I told him. I continued imagining a positive scenario play out for him. I saw a tall woman with short graying hair, maybe in her 50s, and with a sweatshirt wrapped around her waist, kneel down to greet him. I think she was with a partner, but he was in the background. She called to Royce and he cautiously crept toward her. He was nervous. But when he finally made it to her, all that hesitancy melted away. It was like a reunion, two souls being reunited, and they both could feel it. It was better than anything Royce could have imagined. He felt safe, wanted, loved, vibrant. His heart expanded and was full of light. I got a quick "slide show" of his life — rapid-fire snippets showing various scenes in his time ahead, all pointing to a happy, fulfilled life. It feels like this exercise with Royce has boosted his confidence a little. There is a small part of his heart that is now aware of this "knowing" and this hope and this not-so-future life. He can think about it now anytime he wants or needs to and it will give him the encouragement and peace-of-mind to wait it out until he gets there. As I looked at Sophie's picture, which shows her extending her neck off to the side of the photo, she turned to me with a slightly surprised expression, like "Oh, I wasn't expecting visitors." I told her who I was and why I stopped by. She seemed to know immediately what I was talking about and commented, "Yes, the site… it's been one of the few constants for me." Very soon after she was added to the site, she suddenly crossed over. "It was quite a surprise," she said, and I wondered how aware beings are of crossing over and if it really is all pre-planned, how much of a surprise would it be? "Well, yes, it was quite sudden," she explained. "But the real surprise was just the change in energy. It's quite disorienting." Her personality so far was gentle, practical, matter-of-fact, and very good-natured. It was different than I thought it would be if I were just speculating from her picture, which looks playful. She continued her description of her experience. "In a moment, I went from a heaviness to weightless; from slow motion to instant movement anywhere in any direction. It was quite freeing and exciting. Of course I felt wonderful, but that's really not what came to mind at the time, as my state of being wasn't focused on the physical anymore. It was all lightbody. A full-being experience." "Were you lonely or scared or confused?" I wondered. After a brief moment of thought, she answered, "No… none of those things. I just felt good and safe and content, like I knew deep down all was well as it should be. My life as a horse was no longer my focus, though I could focus on it if I wanted." "What exactly happened to so suddenly leave your physical existence?" I asked. "All I can do is describe it like a trap door. Walking along and suddenly falling through. You don't plan such things, but in a funny way, you do. On some level, you purposefully walked there to that spot so that event would happen. I'm still exploring all the details," she admitted. "So you're adjusted now?" I asked. "Oh yes, that didn't take too long, though for some, it does," she answered. "It must just be in me, as I feel I had that ability even as a horse — to adapt quickly to things." "Do you miss your life as a horse?" I wanted to know. "Well, it's really not what you do here — miss things like you would in physical. There's a much broader understanding of things that takes all that emotion and drama out of the picture," she said. "I can say, I loved my life, my people, my friends. I have great respect for that experience. I have many fond memories. But pining over something one no longer has is not part of this new experience." I wondered how that might sound to her people. Anyone who has lost a beloved animal companion will likely find it comforting to know the animal is still with them, thinking of them, attached to them in every way possible. This felt different than that. "Well, it is different," Sophie chimed in. "There's no other way to put it. On Earth, you are immersed in an emotional experience. But when you are no longer there, you look at the experience for what it was in reality — just an experience, one created and developed solely to elicit all those feelings, emotions, yearnings, desires, and thousands of other minute explorations into the physical." Her demeanor was calm and even, very soothing and grounded. I understood everything she was explaining, but also could see how it might feel to someone who was still in physical to hear this perspective from someone they knew in a different form — a physical, emotional one. Sophie understood my point, but stuck to hers. "I shower them (her people) with love each and every day. I support them. I bolster their continued experience in all ways I can," she said. "And I know someday, they too will leave that life and understand once again what I understand now. They aren't meant to understand it fully now. It would detract from their planned experience. But someday… yes, someday, they will understand again." She said this last part pensively. "Thank you Sophie," I expressed my gratitude for sharing her perspective and experience in this way. "So, all is well?" I checked one last time. "All is well," she answered. And I really felt that it was. I was thinking about something I heard someone say recently about tapping into the collective consciousness. I wondered what, exactly, that was. Or who it was. Or even how that could be. One voice representing all of a particular species? Mother Earth? And when I asked that, Mother Earth answered, "No, not me. I am the cake, and all other species on the planet are the icing. I am the vehicle, the foundation, the living, breathing, fully alive and vibrant canvas from which all life can spring and thrive and frolic. And I will be here for a very long time." I wondered about that last comment. Does that mean she won't always be here? "Life is about transformation, change, expansion. It is not meant to remain static or forever in one form. Every single part of me and you and everything is changing moment to moment into something else. Much of it is imperceptible, but change nevertheless. "Despite your (humanity's) drive to remain constant, to keep things steady and solid and unmoving, like the sailor who tries to maintain equilibrium on a ship that is constantly tossing this way and that, the actuality of achieving that is an illusion. Change simply happens. It can't be stopped. It won't be stopped. It isn't meant to be stopped. It is meant to expand and morph and blossom and continuously create something new. This is what it means to let it flow. To let go and experience what is in the moment. It's to embrace that change, relish it, savor it, celebrate it. "What will you do in each of those moments? How will you act? You don't need a plan or a guide or a prediction. Change is your guide, like a racetrack that twists and turns and compels you to follow it. Change is not predictable like a race track, but it compels you to follow it. It gives you a clear pathway, prompts along the way, guide rails when you need them, gentle nudges to move this way or that, all according to how you feel in the moment. You're much more in control than you think! In control, at least, of the journey. Of the overall concept of everlasting change? Not so much. "One day, I will not exist in the same form as I do now. Inch by inch, minute by minute, I forge forth toward a new destiny. Just as you were once something else — and don't lament your transition — I too will be that something else, without regret. Not one ounce. "What will your next moment bring? How will you embrace it? Live it? Ride it? Any way you wish. You can't get it wrong, as it has nothing at all to do with right or wrong. There is just 'is.' " Throughout this message and exchange, I felt a low-grade energy buzzing through me. Sort of like some extra life force. I wasn't sure if it was always there and I just noticed it or that it just became more pronounced as I focused on it. I think it's that one, as I got the feeling that we are always invited to "tap into" Mother Earth, to connect more deeply to the source, our foundation, the canvas we use to animate our lives. And with that connection comes more ways for us to "feel" our way down the twists and turns of life's pathways. "Hello Fitz," I greeted. "I'm Josh." She grimaced grumpily. It felt like she was having some trouble moving, like her whole body was stiff and sore. She sort of turned away from me, as if she were saying, "Oh no, not a visitor. I'm not up for this kind of social interaction now." "Are you okay?" I asked. She softened a little and replied, "Yes, sometimes I just don't feel like being around anyone." "You're allowed to feel that way. I do all the time!" I told her. "I just stopped by for a short chat. Should I come back another time?" "No… you're already here." It felt like she was a little interested in having someone to confide in. "Okay, well just let me know when it's too much," I said. "Okay." "So you just feel grumpy sometimes?" I asked. "I just want some peace and quiet sometimes, but there's always someone 'in my face,' wanting my attention, taking up my space." "There's nowhere you can go to just be alone sometimes?" I asked. "I can hide-out in some places sometimes, but they always find me," she explained. "They" were other animals in the home. Well-meaning dogs, just with different personalities than Fitz. "Hmmm. That would be frustrating. What about if you asked you mom if you could hang out in a room by yourself sometime, with the door closed?" I suggested. I could feel her picturing what that would feel like. She likes the concept, but feels nervous about being cut off from everything and being reliant on someone else to open the door again to let her out. "Have you tried talking to the other dogs in your family?" I wondered. "They don't understand. Or they forget," she said. Again I tried to feel what she was picturing and it seemed like a couple of the dogs weren't a problem at all, as they weren't interested in getting in her space. But others have more energy and are simply trying to be social. "Does it always feel this way to you?" I asked. "No," she answered. "Sometimes I'm okay with being in the middle of everything. I can tolerate it more. But I'm sensitive and calmer is better for me." "I definitely see the challenge of living in a large household when you prefer calm over busy." I tried to choose the last word diplomatically. "And what about the stiffness or pain I was sensing with you at first?" I asked. "Oh, that's just normal," she replied. "You mean nothing out of the ordinary or just something you live with?" I tried to clarify. "Well, it's probably not normal, but it's something I live with. It sometimes slows me down, but it's not a big deal," she said. It felt kind of arthritic, but also seemed to flare up in response to everything happening around her. Like her body's response — tensing and bracing for the higher energy interaction around her. So it sort of feeds the situation. She doesn't always want the interaction and her body reacts in pain and stiffness to the overload, which makes her even less tolerant of the interaction. "What would be your ideal situation, Fitz?" I asked. She shows me sitting alone in a warm, sunny spot, away from all the activity, yet still within eyesight of it all so she feels part of it somewhat. I feel the love and affection she has for her family. She really does want to be part of it and appreciates everyone. It's just a lot for her sometimes and she can't help feeling that way. "Maybe your mom will come up with some ideas that will help," I said hopefully. Again, I tried to see Fitz's outlook on that and it felt like she does get a little alone time with mom, but it's short-lived because others are always "bursting in." "You're happy otherwise?" i asked. "Yes, happy otherwise," she agreed with a softness as she thought about the warmth she feels with her family. "I'm glad to hear that," I told her. I felt bad for just leaving, knowing she will still be struggling with this. But I had to remind myself I am not responsible for fixing everything. My goal here was to make a meaningful connection so that she could feel heard. And I think that happened. And now that she was able to express herself, perhaps a positive solution will come of it. Feedback:Wow, you are spot on with Fitz and now her behaviour makes perfect sense to me! She'll watch the others play and then just out of the blue, jump up and tackle one, growling and pinning the one down, as if to say, enough now. She does gets irritated when they play around her, that is so true! She's a calm, quiet little girl but can get very snappy and agitated when the energy is too high around her. And she loves being not too far from everyone but not necessarily joining them. She is a very loving little thing but when she is irritated, you know it :-) As I do each day of the practice challenge, I prepare posts I'm going to share on Facebook. The tips and messages I share often tie-in with each other or with the day's theme. Today, I added a planned post around a poster I had made about some simple truths for those who have lost animal companions. It is meant to alleviate their guilt and regret, as so many have after their animals cross over. I wasn't sure why I decided to post that today, as it really didn't fit the day's theme. And when it came to choosing an animal to talk with, I also wasn't sure why I suddenly chose to connect with Foxy, as I didn't feel that pull at any other time. But when I did and I brought through the following exchange and message, all of the decisions I made today came together and made sense! I briefly gazed at Foxy, appreciating his loving and gentle essence, but his expression suddenly turned to sadness and shame. "What's going on, Foxy?" I said, wondering why he was feeling this way. "I didn't do it right," he answered a little meekly. "You are in spirit, so you must have let go of any of this kind of earthly stuff by now," I answered him. It didn't make sense to me that he would still be stuck in a place of sadness or shame, for whatever reason. But in an instant, as it often happens in animal communication, I got a "packet of information" that explained everything at once: this was not his sadness or shame, but that of his people. And he wants to set it right, release them from that guilt, let them know he is better than perfect and always was. "We played the game, acted out the scenes, interacted like earthlings do. We all did everything as planned," he explained. "There are no regrets, mistakes, or need for guilty feelings. We created something wonderful together. We played it out with love and joy and perfect intentions until the end. And now? We continue. Yes, we. We are not done together — and we never will be. Our lives are forever intertwined and will continue adventuring through time and space for eternity. You asked me to remind you of all of this if you forgot. So here I am. Let go of any pain and doubt. Soon enough we will reunite in ways we have planned. For me, it is mere moments away. To you, it seems longer. But the time will come nevertheless. And all will be as it should. Until then, know that all is as it should. Free yourselves to fully embrace what is before you. I am alongside you every step of the way, guiding your hands and feet to places that make your hearts sing." At this point, Foxy sent a giant heart out to you. HIs expression was no longer sad, but full of love and peace. I wasn't expecting this kind of conversation today. The message just came through as if I was meant to deliver it. So I am. I hope it resonates with you. Feedback:Thank you, Josh. It definitely resonates, and I appreciate the message so much. I also want to pass along this insight: You said this, " We played it out with love and joy and perfect intentions until the end." After he passed, I made a photo book of him. The only words I had put on the cover were "Love and Joy." Today I spent some time working with the Quantum Field Connection. The goal is to support the animals and their intentions and wishes for themselves. One particular dog has a life-threatening affliction in his bladder. I began by tuning in just to get a feel for his energy. He came across as a very bright light, full of positivity and cheer for those around him. I added additional light and sent healing energy to support what his soul's intention is. It's not our job to change someone's intent or force our wills on them. But we can support what they wish. I wondered how a dog with such a bright presence could be affected in such a way (with this illness). And I also wondered if he would survive it. The message or feeling I got was that he is here in this life to provide that bright presence; to transform the negative into positive. In this case, what he was processing got stuck in him. It took him by surprise, as he has always been able to process it all and he never had any doubt that he could. He doesn't know what to do now that it doesn’t work. However, he is not done with this life, His soul still wants to be here, to participate. I feel like energy work will help move the stuckness and equalize his system. So I spent some time doing just that. But the more people who join to do this, the better the results. It also feels like he is courageous and almost always is able to maintain positivity on the outside — rarely complaining or being "needy." He just keeps living life and doing what he does despite what is going on inside. A trooper! Feedback:Thank you so much, Josh! You pegged his personality to a T. He is always positive and cheery regardless of what's going on. His tail's ready to wag at a moment's notice. He seeks out people and makes them smile and laugh without fail. What I didn't tell about him is he's a foster who was supposedly vetted and healthy. Turned out he had a long list of problems, including the cancer. His life has done a 180, and he's loving life I'm sure more than ever before. Thank you again for going above and beyond for him. He's very much a trooper! Each evening and early morning, both times when it is dark out, I take our dog out for a bathroom break in the front yard. Usually, the walkway has transformed into a highway for slugs at these hours. These are Pacific Northwest slugs, and quite a bit bigger than typical garden slugs. They scour the landscape for things we consider "waste." My goal today wasn't to have a conversation, but to experience what a slug experiences. To be open to whatever comes to me. I pictured myself from the viewpoint of a slug and felt myself expand to fill the entire screen or lens. Everything felt slower. It felt like there was more time to simply sense, take in everything around me. There no longer was a hurry to do this, interpret that, evaluate, analyze everything in order to make quick decisions as a human might. There simply was no rush to do that because it was impossible to rush. And then I heard from them directly: "We are. We are what we eat, what we breathe. We are from the earth and of the earth — an extension of her majestic innerworkings. We exist in this form until we don't. We accept what is and what no longer is. We feel no ill toward others and accept no harm, purposely or purposefully. We are. We are not on our way, in the way, or on the way. We just do what we do, be what we be, exist alongside others doing the same. All is in harmony. All is as it is. We are not happy or unhappy, satisfied or dissatisfied, restless or restful. We are. And we always will be, until we are something else. And in that something else, we will also simply be. You can 'be' too. It is not beyond your species. You have simply grown out of it, away from it. But you can realign, return to your roots — roots we all share with mother earth. Can you feel her through us?" I took a moment to again feel from a slug's perspective. There was no fear, anxiety, pressure, immediacy, competition. It was like being on vacation from every last ounce of responsibility that we often feel as humans. Because even on vacation, we don't truly let fully go of everything. As people, could we really ever get to the perspective slugs have? As advantageous as it seems in many ways, I think each species carries with it a different experience and humans are given more "to deal with" because that is the level of experience human existence has made possible and available. Good or bad. We don't need to fully adopt the slug's way of life or outlook. But we can still learn from them, adapt some of their wisdom to our lives, and in the process, get closer to our roots, mother earth's roots, closer to where we began. As soon as I tuned-in to Riley, she started barking at me, in a way dogs do with strangers. The meaning seemed to be: Intruder Alert! I don't always know why I see or hear certain things and often the meaning appears later, so I ignored the barking and asked her if she wanted to talk today. She turned her head away as if she were upset with me and said, "I don't know why I should." Hmmm. That seemed strange. I asked if she's upset about something and felt there were many reasons. They all seemed to stem from communication — or lack of it. It seems that she gets an idea in her mind and then when it doesn't happen, she feels let down, disappointed, and upset. When I asked for an example, I got "going for a walk." She might have in her head that she wants to go for a walk or that she knows she usually goes at a certain time. When it doesn't happen, she feels betrayed and doesn't understand why the communication about all of this in her head is being ignored by those outside her head. Basically she's thinking, "I thought it, therefore others heard it and will listen." But since not everyone can hear her thoughts or they aren't always listening to them, there's lots of room for what she thinks should be happening to not happen. I thought all of this was interesting, but a strange way to open a conversation and wondered if I had gotten this wrong. When I looked again at her picture, she seemed gentle and sweet. Could she really think this other way? I tried to feel into her personality. I did feel the gentleness and sweetness. But I still also felt this rigidness and sense of expectation. "Riley, I think I understand why you feel disappointed, but why did you direct that at me at first when we haven't even met yet?" I asked her. "I thought we were going to talk," she answered. "You mean when I first added you to the site?" I tried to clarify. "Yes. You added me and we were supposed to talk. I waited!" She said this with a slightly hurt expression. "I think there may have been a misunderstanding, Riley," I explained. "Yes, I added you to this site because your family thought it would be interesting for you to talk with people and help them learn about communication. And I do personally talk with many of the animals, but not all of them. Sometimes I'm too busy. But the site is not only for me. It's for many other learners all around the world." It seems Riley thought, since I added her to the site, that I was the one who was going to talk with her. "Riley, did you assume that was what was going to happen?" I asked. She nodded yes. "I think a lot of these misunderstandings could go away if you made sure the other person heard you before just assuming they did and then getting disappointed when what you thought should happen, didn't," I explained. "Then why aren't they listening to what I'm saying?" she asked, a little exasperated. "Well, again, you are assuming they hear you. Not everyone hears things the way you say them. Most of the time, I don't just hear someone telepathically say something to me. Animals are used to this kind communication, but many people are not. So it's not personal when it seems like they ignore you." I felt like this whole topic was important, but I didn't want it to seem like one big lecture. I tried to summarize things for her so we could move on. "Maybe the best way is to make sure you get a confirmation from the other person about what you are thinking. That way you've made sure it's actually two-way communication rather than just a thought or expectation in your head," I said. "And if you don't get verbal or mental confirmation, you could look for physical confirmation. And if you don't get any of it, there's a good chance that what you think should happen won't. Does that make sense?" "That's not how it should work," she replied slowly and with some thought. "Yes, I know that the thought process in your head is telling you things should be a certain way, but if you let that go and use the confirmation of communication as a better guide, you will be happier," I said. "I will think about it," she answered. This was a brand new way of thinking for her and she wasn't yet convinced it was a better way. She wasn't ready to change just yet. This had already been a long discussion about this and I felt bad that this was all we had talked about, as this couldn't have been what she had in mind when she thought we were supposed to talk. But then I realized it may not have been what she had in mind, but it certainly could have been exactly what she was meant to talk about and why we were destined to talk. So I let that be the reason and singular mission of this conversation for today. Riley was still processing this new way of thinking anyway, so maybe it was a good time to give her some space. "Riley, how about we talk another time about other things?" I suggested. She agreed and I could tell she was evaluating my question to see whether that qualified as confirmation. So I acknowledged, "Yes, that's exactly what to look for! I just said we would talk another time, so you can now expect that." She was happy about this and a small light went on as she could start seeing this connection. Her tail wagged ever-so slightly to confirm. Feedback:Wow! I see so much of Riley in your conversation with her. A strange conversation I must agree lol but so interesting. She came from the local dog pound. She is bursting with LOVE. I'm not surprised she showed you how she barks. She loves to bark at anything. She's a very headstrong girl and likes to do her own thing. She will listen to what i say then go into a sulk and take herself off if she doesnt like it. I don't take her for walks as its way too hot and she loves her big garden to bark and chase the birds. I have told her why we don't go. Why she got upset that you didn't connect to her when i added her, i can say Riley expects and get upset when it doesn't happen (a bit like me so possibly mirroring there) Thanks so much Josh 😊 I had a lot on my mind, so had some trouble getting focused and grounded for a conversation. When I greeted Rufus, it felt like he was traveling from a far away place to respond. When he did arrive in front of me, he felt gentle, good-natured, and friendly. "I'm here," he said. "Why did it feel like you were being called from a far-away place?" I asked. "It wasn't so much as far away, just a different place," he answered. "The travel is instantaneous, but sometimes switching attention to something else takes a little effort." "What were you doing when I interrupted you?" I queried. I got a picture of him from behind and above and I could hear soft voices, like someone talking with another. It felt like a counseling session. "That's right," Rufus confirmed. "I was counseling another soul. A bit of a crisis." "Well, I hope you didn't interrupt a crisis for this conversation," I told him. "No. It was an identity crisis. And we're still working through it even as we speak," he explained. "You mean you're doing both at once?" I asked. "Uh-huh." He said all of this in a calm and gentle tone. In real life, he would be a great counselor with this kind of mannerism! "Thank you," he answered my last comment. "This is my calling." "Are you just existing in spirit now?" I wondered. "Currently, yes. But I come and go. I can do it all without letting a particular aspect of my existence go." I understood this to mean that he takes physical form from time to time and that fact doesn't prevent him from continuing his other work in spirit as a counselor. Rufus acknowledged this as correct. I found it curious that on this day, when my mind felt so unsettled, that I found myself connecting with an animal with such a soothing, calming demeanor — and a counselor at that! "Curious, but not coincidence," said Rufus. "You may need to just sit, get grounded, connect with earth, until the anxious energy dissipates." I tried it for a few moments and could feel it working, though I probably needed to continue for longer. "Did you enjoy your time as Rufus?" I asked. I could feel him reminiscing. "Those were golden times," he said. It felt like he was there to help create a warm and comforting family experience for his people. He also helped them keep their faith/strength during a darker patch. But overall, he was meant to be part of really good memories and growth/growing up. I feel him tearing-up a little at the thought of all this and wondered if someone in spirit could or would actually feel that way or if I was just imagining it. "We can feel that way," Rufus confirmed. "Though we have a different perspective on things from here — out of the drama, as they say — thinking about our experiences is accessible to us and we can remember fondly those times. So I was. They were good times." I see him chasing a ball, licking an ice cream cone, chasing a bird. I hear his loud-ish breathing/mouth sounds. He felt wonderful when he was with his family, even if he were just lying on the floor at their feet doing nothing. He was still with them and part of them and that's what mattered. "Do you still visit them?" I wondered. "We're still connected," was his diplomatic answer. It felt like they would always be connected, but that their time together on earth was complete. Rufus' soothing voice and energy had now lulled me into that same state. Mission accomplished, I guess. And he agreed with a knowing grin. "Thanks, Rufus. Nice connecting with you," I said. He waved genially as he "floated" back to that seemingly far-away place where he started. Feedback:Thank you so much for your wonderful, lovely communication with Rufus. Yes I can see him as a counsellor, he is a very caring, considerate, and patient dog who loves lots of fun. Yes he loved running after balls, eating ice cream -he ate almost anything actually, including my mom's freshly baked cakes and chased birds too - but this was his natural instinct as well. I would like to share something with you Josh. Early this morning, I was awake and clearly heard my mom call my name. She lives in another country across the world. I knew straightaway it was either Rufus or my other dog in spirit......Rufus was very close to my mom....and the first email I came across was your chat with him! Yes he has reincarnated several times and your reference to him being able to be a physical being and continue being a spirit doing the work he is doing resonates very well; other communicators have either inferred the same or said so...in the form of "soul sharing" - where an animal returns as an older spirit and shares a soul with an existing animal. "What do you think, Lincoln, should we talk today?" I asked. "Yeeeessssss," Lincoln replied with a drawn-out affirmative. He said this in a cautious, playful way. "So you're a pro at this — you've talked with a lot of people?" I wondered. "Oh, yes," he replied matter-of-factly. "People like talking with me. I make it easy on them." "How so?" I asked. "I make sure to talk about what they know. What they're comfortable with. Like we're doing right now," he explained. "I'm comfortable talking about lots of things," I mentioned, in case he wanted to venture into anything more daring. "And we're not done talking, are we?" he calmly reminded me. "True!" I said. Lincoln feels very grounded, calm, laid-back, self-assured. Also, curious and with a sense of humor. "That sounds about right," he says of this assessment. I wasn't sure where to go with the conversation, so I asked what he likes to do. He gave me a slight eye-roll and said, "You know, cat stuff." He meant: what more can be said on this subject that hasn't already been said? "Well, not all cats are the same and so they don't all like the same things," I explained. "Yes, but they're close enough," he replied in a knowing, no-nonsense way. "How about your world. Let's see that," he suggested. He wanted me to give him a little tour of where I live, so I did. We went room to room in my house and I would point out various things. He seemed very interested, but most interested in looking out the windows. Birds, lots of trees, squirrels. He seemed fascinated and couldn't believe I get to live with these views. I tried to bring it back to his experience by asking what his views are like at home and he waved me away like, "Not now with that boring stuff. We're in the middle of something much more interesting." With every room I took him to, I would show him the view and he would give simple responses like "Oh…" and "Yes…" as if he were imagining all of the possibilities if he had this at his disposal. I wondered if he gets to go outdoors and if he'd like to venture out. "I'm an indoor cat, but I'm ready to go out," he answered. So I took him out the front door where we have a front yard with lots of trees and shade. He immediately said, "You have cats." We only have a dog, so I was about to tell him that, but he clarified, "In your yard." I guess he could smell or sense that one of the neighbor's cats likes to hang out there. "More than one," he further clarified. "And big birds," he went on, probably referring to the wild turkeys who come through all the time. "Raccoon, mice, dogs, snakes. It's all here." "Yes, I love living amidst nature," I responded. "Yes…" he said slowly and pensively. "…so would I." Again I got the feeling that he was imagining the possibilities if he lived in a place like this. I tried to think of a positive spin on this for him and began asking about travel during dreamtime, as I thought cats were especially good at that. He once again waved me and this idea away and said, "Not that tired old stuff again (things he is already too familiar with). I'm trying to savor something new here." Everywhere we toured, he acted like someone shopping for a new home, surveying the features, imagining what he could do with this space and that room and view. "Well, this does open up worlds for me," he said. And this felt like it meant he can now go home with a new-found perspective. Now that he's seen what can be, he can explore more with his own imagination. "Enlightening," he said, deep in thought. Then he sort of snapped out of it and said, "Well, must be off!" He was now anxious to get home and try out his new ideas. "Okay, well thank you for visiting, Lincoln," I said. "And to you for having me. Most enlightening," he replied. "Most enlightening." He seemed very, very pleased. Feedback:I think you definitely got a good show of what kind of guy he is. Of our 4 cats he’s the only one that isn’t shy around new people, and expects to be noticed when you walk in. He really enjoys spending time outside, but we’re in an apartment here so he only has a little balcony to hang out on. It’s so fun to watch him chatter at the doves nesting in a hanging pot right outside the door. We did just get a house and I can’t wait to show him the yard though. It’s not much but I hope he’ll love it. Sure sounds like he’ll enjoy checking out a new environment! I thought I would try to connect with Jonesy, a cat who has been missing for a couple of weeks. The goal is just to make a connection and see what he wants to show or tell me, not go on a search and rescue mission. "Hi Jonesy, what's going on?" I asked. "I don't know what's going on. I always had a place to come home to and now I don't," he said, slightly frantically. "Are you hungry?" I asked him this as I mentally offered some wet and dry food. There didn't seem to be any interest in it. He was more focused on figuring out how to get home. "Can you tell me what you see around you?" I asked. It feels like it's a small bedroom. There are posters/pictures on the wall. There is a large wooden figurine on a desktop. The figurine is painted with red and orange fiery colors and seems like some kind of male Eastern god. There is a window, so I asked Jonesy what he sees outside. All I get is greenery, like there is a large bush/tree/hedge that is blocking any view. "What do you need, Jonesy?" I inquired. "I need my memory back," he said. "I need to get home." "Do you know how you got there?" I wondered. I'm not sure I understood the visuals that came in. First, it looked like Jonesy was on the sidewalk and met two girls, who stopped to say hi. They wondered if he had a home and thought it would be fun to take him home and play with him. Then I see the connection to the bedroom. When I asked again for him to show me how he got there, I felt a movement, like a moving train. The tracks bumped and clicked as it went. At this point, I was very unsure if any of this was accurate and I didn't want to create more problems through misinformation. So I tried to begin again, fresh, to see what else came through. "Jonesy, can you tell me where you are?" I asked. "I don't know, " he said in an alarmed voice. "I'm in this place, this box. How do I get out?" Again, it felt like a small bedroom. This time, though, it felt more like a dorm room. I again got the sensation of movement, like a train and a blurred greenery outside the window. But it wasn't clear. "I'm sorry, Jonesy," I told him. "I'm not experienced enough in locating lost animals to be able to be much help. But keep sending messages to your people and if other animal communicators reach out to you, tell them as much as possible about what you see and hear and feel and how you got where you are." "Okay," he replied. It didn't feel like he was in danger or hurt, just confused and perhaps confined. I hope you find your way home, Jonesy! I came across a picture of a gigantic tree online and it was so impressive and intriguing. I felt compelled to try and connect with it. "Hello tree," I began. "I am so impressed and fascinated with your look, and size, and age. I was wondering if you can let me experience what it feels like to be you." Wordlessly, the tree invited me to put my hands on it and I got the sensation of being part of a massive organism that towered to the sky. I didn't exactly feel like I was the tree, but it felt like I could get a sense of it. "How did you get this big?" I wondered to the tree. It felt like the tree was literally reaching out across the sky as it spoke. "I am the sum of all my parts, made up of thousands of nutrients from the earth, the air, the water. Organisms join with me, other species help me grow, Gaia fills me with light and love and beauty each and every day. It is not only me you see here, it is us. It is creation. It is what happens when we work together in harmony. I am but a product of this magic and take no credit." The tree's voice sounded more male than female and spoke in a more "wooden" (LOL!) tone. I again tried to feel what the tree felt. I could sense the many processes happening, the nutrients flowing up and down and out, the energy enlivening every part, the slight buzz of activity and life. I wondered why I don't feel that in my own body, which is essentially the same concept. We are made up of many other things and our systems are continuously creating, converting, processing, working. But as I focused on my own body, I actually was able to perceive this activity. Back to the tree, I asked what it was like to live for so long. "But a moment," it said. And I understood this to mean not only does time mean little to it, so that even after 1200 years (the age I "felt" it was) it didn't look at it that way, but each moment it is born anew. New growth, new infusions from the earth, new interactions with surroundings. It all changes moment to moment, which essentially changes the tree moment to moment, perpetually transforming it through an ongoing cycle of new life. It continued, "You are now part of me and my experience, just as I am now part of yours. We are eternally entwined." At that last concept, I wondered if being entwined with someone else could be a negative, as we are often encouraged to "cut the cords" to others so that we can move freely through our own existence. To that, the tree answered: "We are not entwined in that way, like in a sack race (two people, each with a leg in the same sack, requiring them to move together to get anywhere). That would not encourage individuality and freedom and expansion in all ways. Think of it more like a root system. A tiny strand may connect with a part of something else, but in no way restricts the rest of the tree from growing and expanding in any way it wants. In many ways, it actually helps by bringing in and integrating diversity, a new life force — and source. It is how trees do what we do. It is how all life does what it does, through this connection. Healthy connection expands rather than restricts." I again tried to feel what it was like to be the tree and felt a fluid weightlessness, like I was floating up through its trunk and branches. It felt alive, yet neutral, calm, grounded. It just "was" without the emotions or ups and downs humans tend to experience minute to minute. I could see that all the things people on a spiritual path try to accomplish: patience, acceptance, flow, unity, congruence, positivity, were all part of this tree's existence and probably had a lot to do with its longevity. "And what about all the trees who haven't lived to your age, who died as seedlings or saplings or too early?" I wondered, thinking maybe there was a breakdown in some of the above attributes which led to an early demise. "We are not human," answered the tree without judgement. "Our paths are primal and straight-forward. Applying psychologies or human motivations to our lives would not result in an accurate picture of how things work for us. Rest assured, all happens according to plan, even if those plans are devised anew in each moment. All is well." "Yes, I feel that from you," I replied. It certainly was a much more grounded perspective than we can usually maintain as humans who are led by emotion. "Thank you for making me part of your world," I said to the tree. "We are connected now," it replied. "Your roots are intertwined with mine, yet you grow free." What a beautiful connection! As I tuned into Dusty, I decided to just sit with her for a few minutes and see how it felt. She was pretty calm, though her vibration and heart rate were high. She was very reliant on her sense of smell. She used it to evaluate everything. She was inside a house in a dining area at the base of a wooden chair that was around a table. As she sniffed it, I got the sense that she was not only evaluating the smell, but the species of wood the chair leg was made from. She then tasted it, but it was coated with something and tasted bad to her. At this point, I felt like I was eavesdropping, so I began to introduce myself and ask if she wanted to talk today and she stopped me and said, "No need (to introduce yourself). Come along." She apparently already knew I was there and was inviting me to tag along with her as she explored the house. She hopped along to a living area, The carpet was brown/white tones. There was a glass coffee table and a couch, also brownish tones, maybe some green. Everything had a vintage feel. Dusty sniffed at the base of the couch and said matter-of-factly to me, "This is where I sometimes find things to eat." She sampled some stray green thread from the couch and didn't find it too bad. I see an older looking TV, a sliding door that leads to outside, a fireplace. "You just get to roam around the house?" I asked Dusty. "Yes, they trust me," she said. Her energy and demeanor were still even and calm. "Do you know that you are here temporarily until your person can take you back?" I wondered, referring to a question on her page. "Yes. I'm okay with the arrangements. I quite like it here." She almost had a slight British accent. "What do you do for fun?" I asked. "I'm doing it. Exploring. Sniffing. Outdoors is quite nice. There's a freshness there that is unbeatable." "What do you enjoy eating?" I queried. "Really?" she looked at me like, "Isn't it obvious?" and gave me the visual of a carrot. I also saw her munching a potato and some spinach leaves. Also some green pellets that I assume is rabbit food. "Those are a strange form of food, but oddly satisfying," she said of the pellets. She feels very comfortable and at-home. Rabbits typically seem scared or jumpy, but Dusty didn't have that vibe at all. "Does anything scare you?" I asked her. "Cats. Some dogs (the unfamiliar ones). Big sounds. Big movements." She paused, thinking, then said, "I think that covers it." "What do you want out of life?" I wondered to her. She repeated my question, "What do I want out of life? I don't want anything out of it. I just want to live it. Experience it. Give it a good go. That's why we're all here, right? To live? You know, really live?" "On some level, I guess I know. On others and at other times, I guess I have no idea," I said honestly. "Oh. Well, then perhaps you should try being a rabbit," she recommended. "I've never met one who didn't live life as intended." "Humans are more complicated than that," I said, feeling the weight of this human struggle. I wasn't sure I wanted to continue talking philosophy. "Yes, I often feel that complication from people. I think I'll stick with being a rabbit," she decided out-loud. "Sounds good," I said. "Nice talking with you today, Dusty. Enjoy your domain." "And you, as well," she replied. Feedback:You have had a beautiful conversation with her. She indeed has a calm and composed personality and yes her energy vibration is really high and also her heartbeat. Rabbits physiologically have higher heart rate. Indeed she relies onher sense of smell than anything else.....she loves to sniff around......so the brown couch that you saw should have been our sofa in the living room where she is sometimes sneaks in and lies down there and chews sometimes on that wood....so he bad taste must be the polish. We do not have any carpet or glass table or vintage looking furnitures but sometimes while cutting vegetables some pieces may fall underneath the sofa and she loves exploring and trying those bits before we clean it up.....The green strand could be coriander stem....and we dont have a firplace or a sliding door. Yes she is a free roam rabbit and we trust her completely except when she chews on cable cords and power supplies. She loves to eat, explore and sleep.......thats her favorite things to do. She loves to eat coriander, carrots, bananas, brocolli, cauliflowers, cabbage etc. She gets startled by loud noises and sudden movements. she is friendly to humans but do not really like other animals as she is a prey animal. Thanks a lot for choosing to speak with her....you did an amazing job connecting to her. Buttercup is a friend's dog. I used to visit my friend weekly and got to know his other dog and cats. But Buttercup is a newer addition who I've never met. "Hi Buttercup, do you know who I am?" "Daddy's friend," she said. "How do you know that?" I wondered. "Benny told me," she replied. Benny is the other dog in the family. I hear Benny telling Buttercup, "There's this guy who comes over to visit all the time. It's so fun. You're going to love it." "Yes, I used to come over all the time, but haven't been able to for a while," I told her. "But I've been wanting to meet you." "So, come!" she urged. "I will, I'm just not sure when yet," I promised. She has an excited, exuberant, youthful personality. I also feel a tinge of "I'm going to do what I want, when I want, and I'm going to get away with it." "Is that really how you feel, Buttercup?" I asked. "Uh-huh. They won't do anything," she explained. "They" meaning her people. "You mean you think you can get what you want because they let you?" I clarified. "Yes. They don't think they let me, but they do. They say no, but they don't stop me most of the time." I see her purposely "pushing the limits" to stir things up and see what she can get away with. She urges Benny to act out. She needles the cats to get a reaction. She tries to "take over" situations just to prove that she can. "Do you have another side to you other than mischievous" I wondered. I feel she can be sweeter, sometimes cuddly, but it feels her primary goal is to stir things up. I wondered how Benny feels about this, so decided to ask him. I hear her say to Buttercup, "They're not going to like that. You're going to get into trouble for that." It seems he is very aware and cautious about what Buttercup is up to. He will go along with her if it means having fun, but he doesn't like participating when he knows the fun is specifically going to make his people upset. "Do you ever talk to her about this, Benny? Try to get her to stop?" I asked. "She doesn't listen to me," he said. And he describes it as "selective hearing." "Buttercup, what would happen if your people finally said enough is enough and were very strict with you — didn't let you get away with anything?" I asked. She stopped in her tracks at this thought and showed me the equivalent of her turning white with "fear." She didn't like the thought of this possibility at all. I could hear her quietly thinking, "Could they do that? They wouldn't really do that, would they?" She gulped and then said with forced breeziness, "We'll see." It felt like she didn't want to think that it could happen and was pushing the idea out of her head as if it didn't exist. I didn't want this conversation to all be centered around her behavior, so I asked her a few other questions. "What do you like to eat?" "The good stuff," she said. So I asked what she meant by that. She said it was the stuff that she gets that is not from her bowl. In other words, table scraps, treats, and other things outside of her normal mealtime. I keep seeing jerky treats, what looks like slim jims, and also some kind of sausages. Apparently, she knows she can count on getting these things, so she can afford to be pickier with her food. "Do you have any friends in the neighborhood?" I asked. "I'm well-known," she replied. She said this in a way that felt to me like she was "infamous" not necessarily like all the other animals actually know her personally or interact with her in real life. But telepathically, she has made her presence known in the neighborhood. I do also see her being friendly with other dogs she meets in person. But again, I feel an attitude of privilege with her, like when she meets other dogs, she sends the message "You don't have it as good as I do." I feel Benny cringe at this. It weighs on him to always feel like his "sister" is acting out and disrupting things. Before Buttercup came along, he thought he worked the system pretty well. But it was nothing compared to what Buttercup does. Buttercup's behavior and attitude came through pretty persistently for me, even when I tried to see her in a different way in case something was coloring my perception. I asked, "Do you want to be caught/taught?" I got a small feeling that she is like some kids who act out, who want to be called out for it and disciplined because they secretly want the structure. She said, "I started out that way — before I got here. But now it's too fun (to stop)." Animals often come into our lives to help us see things we cannot see so we can grow or expand or learn. I think this is what she was referring to. "So, what can I expect from you when we finally meet?" I wondered to her. "I'll behave. You know my secrets. But I'll still show you what I'm all about." "I prefer good behavior," I told her. "I'll be good. I'll just show you my frisky side," she said. "Okay," I replied a bit cautiously. "Thank you for the interesting chat." She gave me a knowing, mischievous smile before running off to play. Feedback:You certainly hit it on the head with sausages and Jerky, we give her turkey Jerky that is flat. The mischievous is probably her perception when she takes her toys outside and anything she can steal from us. You got Benny right as well. When we get a little harsh at Buttercup he walks out the doggie door. He certainly is the perfect dog in our eyes and he has a hell of a sense of humor, again in our eyes. Buttercup is way too cute to get mad at, but we really never got to corrective with Benny either. If you think Buttercup wants us to correct her more we have plenty of opportunities on things that really do not bother us much. |
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